Home
by HermioneJMalfoy
Summary: Your lack of AryaxGendry stories disturbs me. This must be fixed. Here, have a story about Arya who is finally coming home after 5 years but meets someone from her past on the way.. COMPLETE Arya is mostly OOC, Gendry is stupid as usual (but we still love him) Also starring: Sansa, Bran, Rickon, Stannis; Special guest stars: Supernatural!
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's note, disclaimer and other stuff**_

**Let's start with the obvious. I don't own Arya, Gendry, or any other character whom you recognize. Any similarity with some other already existing fanfiction story is completely unintentional. **

**Now that we cleared this up. I know we all need a bit of cheering up after what happened to the Starks in the 3****rd**** season, so here's something for all the AryaxGendry shippers while we wait for the 4****th**** season.**

**Note: obviously includes spoilers for the 3****rd**** season.**

**Now, onto the story.**

Home

The sun was burning high up in the sky. Arya sighed and wiped the sweat off her eyebrow. Her long thick hair was braided, but some of it clung onto her forehead. She was wearing a linen shirt, brown woollen breeches and knee-high laced up boots. A long cloak was wrapped around her shoulders, covering two swords she was carrying-a good solid iron sword and her Needle.

She has been riding for days now and her thighs were sore. Both Arya and her mare were exhausted. She has had it with this thrice-damned heat on this thrice-damned Kingsroad. Five years have passed since she last travelled this road and a lot has changed for better. Queen Daenerys's reign brought wealth and stability to the Westeros. Arya passed through many villages and most people seemed satisfied with their new queen. With the big war finally over, people were reviving the land and preparing for the harvest. There weren't even that many outlaws as before. Arya hadn't encountered any, at least.

After about a mile of tired trotting, the trees thickened and formed a small forest. Oaks towering above her head and their lush leaves embraced her in the shade and protected her from the merciless sun. Her piece was not long-lasting, though. She narrowed her eyes and tried to make out the shape of the figure in the distance. It was only one man, she concluded. But where there was one, there could be others. Years and years of living in constant danger thought her to be wary all the time. The man was slowly approaching her.

When they finally met, he raised his eyes. He was now standing on the left of her mare. It was a middle aged man, with mousy hair streaked with grey, a long scar on his left cheek and watery green-grey eyes. He was dressed in ragged clothes, but he seemed to be well fed.

"Dear child, help a poor man fill his belly. D'you have a coin to spare, sweet girl?"

She looked at him suspiciously. "I'm sorry, I don't have anything."

"C'me on, girl, don't lie to me. I don't like it when people lie to me." His left eye twitched.

"Leave me alone, I told you, I don't have anything for you." The man was starting to annoy her.

"Let's make a deal, here, eh? You gimme money, and I let you go away unharmed, eh? If you really don't have any money, I'll take your mare and be gone."

She listened to him with slight amusement. "Are you threatening me?"

"Of course not," he began, putting his hand on her reins, "I was just.." but he was cut off in the middle of the sentence by a sword's point that suddenly appeared under his chin. Quick as a snake, she had unsheathed her sword. Its pommel was a dark grey wolf.

"Take your hand away," she said, her voice sweet as honey.

"Now, now. Where did you steal that sword?"

"I did not steal it. Get your hand off before I chop it off for you."

"Take it easy, girl, I mean no harm." He removed his hand. "See, no harm done."

There was a distant rustle in the trees and she turned her hand to the right to see where the sound came from. She didn't see anything, but for one moment she wasn't paying any attention to the man, and he quickly took advantage of it. He pulled her by her hand. She tried to slash at him, but he was stronger than her. She lost the grip and her sword went flying in the bushes. She managed to slither from his hands and made a run for the sword. Few seconds later, she found herself lying on her belly and a rusted dagger on her neck.

"Not so tough now, eh, girl?" he whispered in her ear, "I should teach you a lesson."

" ." she said, as he turned her over and started to pull down her breeches, dagger still in its place.

"Mmm," he started to rub himself against her, "so ripe and fresh." She was not about to panic. She is a wolf, a Stark of Winterfell. She was equal to any man, when she had a sword. But there was this little problem-her sword was at least 5 feet away. She kicked and scratched, but the man already had his filthy hand under her shirt. His breath reeked of wine. "I've never had a woman so young and beautiful." She heard the man say, as in some kind of morbid nightmare. The rapist was now trying to handle her small clothes.

Next thing she knew, the dagger was flying to the side, as was the man. She saw a man kicking him in the guts his foot, there were two other men pointing their swords at the bastard, and one man was helping her get back on her feet. She had already pulled her clothes back on.

"Here, let me help you." said the man with short brown hair and impossibly green eyes. He replaced her cloak with his own. Her cloak was torn; she hadn't even noticed that before. "My name is Jensen, Ser Jensen; at your service." He flashed her a grin. "That fellow over there would be Ser Thomas," Ser Thomas was currently still trying to kick the lying man. He had honey-blond hair and brown eyes. One of his friends was trying to calm him down a bit.

"That right there, talking to Thomas is Ser Misha." Misha was dark haired and blue eyed. The man who had tried to rape her was trying to escape the grip of a man who was whispering something in his ear. Arya could only see the back of his head, covered with thick black hair, but she had a clear view on the rapist's face. He was trembling like a leaf.

"So what's it going to be? The Wall or your sorry cock?"

The man gulped. "I..I can't go to the wall, Ser. I'd die, Ser. You can't ask me to..."

"I'm asking you nevertheless. Is this your answer? You will be a eunuch?"

"If I have to, good Ser, if I have to.."

"Oh, you have to. Off with you, now. Ser Misha, would you be so kind?" Misha nodded, approached them and took the rapist into the forest that was surrounding them. The black haired man turned around to face his friends.

"And this, my dear," said Ser Jensen, "is..."

"Arya?!"

"Gendry?"

"Seven hells! Is that really you?"

Arya swallowed the lump in her throat. "I can't believe this. What are you doing here?"

"I..I'm a blacksmith, of course. But where have _you_ been? Everyone has been looking for you! They said you were dead, but your sister wouldn't believe them."

"Sansa's alive? What about Bran? And Rickon? And Jon? Any word from..."

A horrible scream was heard from the bushes, and Arya stopped mid-sentence. She didn't feel even remotely sorry for that man. He knew what in th punishment for rape, even an unsuccessful one. Ser Misha soon emerged from the forest. Tom quickly approached him and whispered something to him, while Misha glanced from Gendry to Arya (who were now standing close to each other while Ser Jensen was humming a tune to himself) and nodded understandingly.

"Are they really knights?" she quietly asked Gendry, "they aren't exactly dressed like knights."

"There's usually no need for that heavy armour these days. We were just following a game's trail when we heard the noise."

"Well, my lady" interrupted Ser Misha, "I sense that this will be a long story, so it would be good if we paid a visit to an inn. There's a village just over the next hill, and it's almost time to eat."

"If you ask Misha, it's always time to eat," joked Ser Jensen. Arya smiled, perfectly aware of Gendry's piercingly blue eyes glued to her.

"A hot meal, cup of ale and a warm bed sound amazing. I have only one more question-whom do you serve?"

"We are loyal to Lord Baratheon." Ser Jensen gave her that dashing smile again and with that they set off for the village.

_**Another author's note**_

**Thanks for giving this story a shot. I'll try to update this as soon as possible, and in the meantime, feel free to check out my other stories. **

**Credit to my friend, **_**Marionette008**_**, who had a vote in naming the characters, and whom I own the beautiful description of Jensen's "****impossibly green eyes".**


	2. Chapter 2

**I still don't own anything. This chapter contains a spoiler about Jon Snow. You are warned, but hey, we all saw that coming a long time ago.**

_Griffin's Nest_ was a small inn, but it was pleasant and clean, and Arya was grateful. They rented 3 rooms: one for Arya, one for Ser Jensen and Gendry, and one for Ser Misha and Ser Thomas. The inn-keeper's giggling daughter showed them the way up.

"Do you want some new clothes?" she asked Arya, once they were alone. Arya thought about it for a second, but she decided against it. They'd probably give her some silly dress to put on.

"Can you just wash these for me?" she gestured at the clothes she was wearing.

"Oh. Sure, why not." They reached Arya's room. "There's a prepared bathtub inside," said the girl, unlocking the door, "jump in, leave me the clothes and I'll be back as soon as possible."

"Thank you," Arya said. Once the serving girl left, Arya could finally relax and enjoy her bath. She hasn't had a proper bath in over a week. By the time she scrubbed herself clean, the water has gone cold. She got out and donned a linen cloak she found lying on the bed. Few minutes later, there was a knock on the door, and the serving girl came in.

"Here are your clothes. Hope you didn't wait too long."

"It's fine." Arya smiled and gave the girl a few coppers.

* * *

When she finally got down, her companions have already finished their supper. Ser Misha and Ser Thomas were sitting at the table together and she joined them. "You'll excuse us, my lady, for not waiting for you, I hope? Misha here couldn't wait for anyone," said Ser Thomas.

"I don't mind," she chuckled and dove into her bowl of hot chicken stew. She spied Ser Jensen shamelessly flirting with the inn-keeper's daughter, but Gendry was nowhere to be found. Other than her little company, there were only 3 more people in the room.

"Where is Gendry?" she asked, looking from Misha to Thomas.

"I think he's taking care of his horse." said Misha.

"Or he could be taking care of Cassie, eh?" Thomas jumped in, and Misha kicked him in the shin under the table."

"Not in the lady's presence, Thomas!" Thomas was still snickering, but soon regained his composure.

"Don't worry, I am no lady." Arya went back to her stew and the two knights kept chatting for a while and then excused themselves and went to sleep. She was alone, finishing her stew. She supposed she could join Ser Jensen, but she didn't want to intrude. He was currently whispering something to the girl that was making her blush furiously.

Just as she was about to withdraw to her own room, Gendry entered the room. Obviously not noticing her, he sat by the hearth. She sighed.

"Mind if I join you?" she didn't wait for the reply.

"They left you all by yourself? How discourteous of them. And they call themselves knights." he laughed.

"Well, Ser Jensen is still here," she said, turning to the spot where the couple stood just a few moments ago. "I take that back." They managed to disappear somewhere, probably upstairs. "Where have you been, anyway?"

"Tending the horses."

"Ha. Is that so?"

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Is this going somewhere?"

"No, of course not," she smiled, "So tell me, how did you find yourself among such respected company?"

"Well, I am a blacksmith at Storm's End and they are knights there. They are my best friends."

"I was your best friend once."

"You were. And then you left."

"I suppose I did."

He stood up, went behind the counter and returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"Does my lady want some?" he gave her one glass and started pouring.

"Do not call me _my lady_."

He laughed. "You have no idea how much I've missed you."

The wine in her glass was red like blood in the fire light. She smiled. "Who's Cassie?" she asked innocently.

He almost choked on his wine. She didn't make a move to help him, and waited patiently until he was able to breathe normally again. Then he turned to face her.

"What Cassie?"

"The one you sometimes take care of, according to Ser Thomas."

"I'll kill him," he mumbled under his breath and the raised his voice, "she's just this one village girl that seems to be...uh...interested in me."

"So the four of you visit this village a lot?" she asked, sipping her wine. It was good. Dornish, she supposed.

"Well, not so often, but people around here know us, yes."

She nodded, deciding to drop the subject. "You are taking me to Lord Stannis, right?"

"Yes, he is currently visiting Storm's End. He's seat is still at Dragonstone," he seemed thankful for the change of subject. "Queen Daenerys let him keep all his lands if he swears fealty to her. She even named him Warden of East."

"Really? Aren't wardens of the East usually from house Arryn?"

"Yes, but Lord Stannis married his daughter Shireen to little Robert Arryn, but he has not yet come of age, so Stannis got the title. After all, he did help defend the realm against the wildlings."

"And the dragons took care of the White Walkers, I hear."

"You hear correctly," he said, refilling her cup, "I see you like the wine."

"It's really good."

"Only the best of Dorne for my lady."

She laughed and lightly punched him on the shoulder. She looked at the fire in the hearth. "My brother is on the Wall. If he's still alive, I mean."

"Jon Snow? He's very much alive."

She looked at him with wide eyes. "How do you know?"

"Lord Stannis told me."

"And? Is he alright?" she set her glass aside, anxious.

"He became the Lord Commander of the Wall."

"He's alive! He's alright! Thank you!" she started blabbering, and tightly hugged Gendry, catching him off guard so he almost spilled his wine all over them. "These are wonderful news."

Gandry awkwardly patter her on the back.

"So, only Robb and my mother are..." she mumbled into his neck. She couldn't bring herself to say it out loud.

"Yes, everyone else is safe and sound at Winterfell." He whispered soothingly. He moved one of his hands to the small of her back and used his other hand to raise her chin and make her look at him. He could see tears welling up in her eyes. She was biting her lip again. He lowered his head toward her...

...and then a loud bang was heard and inn-keeper's daughter and Ser Jensen burst into the room. Arya jerked up, turned away from him and stood up. Annoyed, Gendry glared at Jensen.

"'Beg your pardon, are we interrupting something?"

"Of course not. It's past time we all go to sleep, don't you agree?" Arya said to everyone and to no one in particular, her cheeks completely red. "Good night, everyone." She almost ran to her room and slammed the door.

**Author's note**

**Sorry, guys. :( **** Maybe next time.**

**I know you guys are reading this, I see those follows, so let me know what you think.s**


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own anything you recognize. However, I do own cookies. And I will give a cookie to anyone who reviews! **

Arya woke up with a horrible headache. She had tossed and turned the whole night. Now, lying in bed and recalling the events from last night, she groaned and buried her face in the pillow. She was angry with herself. No, not angry. Furious. She shouldn't have let Gendry do that to her. She never should've allowed that stupid to see her like that, no matter how vulnerable she was. She punched the pillow with her fist, and got up.

_Stop acting like some silly 10-year old_, she told herself.

* * *

On her way down the stairs, she bumped into the in-keeper's daughter. She was smiling from ear to ear.

Arya found Ser Jensen and Ser Misha at the counter.

"We were waiting for you, my lady," said Misha, always the courteous one.

"Did you not sleep well?" Jensen smirked at her.

"No, I did not sleep well. What did you do to that girl? She is glowing."

"Joanne? Well, first I.." she smacked him on the head.

"I wasn't asking, that was a rhetorical question."

He threw his hands in the air and overly dramatically sighed. "Ah, highborns and their fancy words."

She rolled her eyes at him and stormed out, snickering Jensen and utterly confused Misha following close after her.

Gendry and Thomas met them outside, leading the horses. Gendry offered her a hand to help her up on her mare's back. She shot him a dirty look. "I can do it myself," she jumped into her saddle.

The road wasn't wide enough for the five of them to ride side by side, so Arya decided to fall behind and let the four friends alone. She wasn't that fun to hang around this morning anyway. Ser Thomas soon joined her.

"I hope you don't mind my company, my lady?" he asked, one soft blond curl falling over his eye.

She smiled. "Of course not." Of the little gang, Thomas seemed to be the oldest one.

"Gendry has talked a lot about you over the years."

She pursed her lips together. "Has he? There is not much to talk about, though."

He gave her a sheepish smile. "My lady is right. My lovely lady wife often tells me that I don't know how to talk to women."

"You are married?"

"For two years now. Genevieve has made me the happiest man alive."

Despite what lady Genevieve said, Ser Thomas did know how to talk to women. The two were soon chatting about everything and nothing and japing with each other. If Gendry noticed anything, he did a very good job hiding it. Or he simply didn't care. She couldn't help but feel a little irritated.

The rest of the voyage passed quickly and peacefully. The sun was already sailing west when they found themselves in the shadow of a huge stronghold. The outer wall itself was at least one hundred feet high.

"It's magnificent, isn't it?" Ser Misha slipped in between Thomas and Arya, leaving Ser Jensen and Gendry to deal with the guards, "It is said that the castle is protected by spells. You are familiar with the story Elenei and Durran, I trust?"

Arya nodded. She had heard the story from Old Nan. "Durran and Elenei married against the will of her godly parents, so the gods destroyed every castle Durran built. Finally, the magic of the children of the forest made the seventh castle resist the storms the gods sent."

"Some say that it was Bran the Builder who instructed Durran," Ser Thomas added as they were entering through the gates.

At this point, Ser Jensen turned too, forcing Gendry to either ride on alone or turn the horse around and finally face her. He chose the second option, and together they waited for Arya, Thomas and Misha to catch up with them.

"Lord Stannis will see us now," Ser Jensen informed them when they reached them.

Arya felt a hint of nervousness in her belly. She never met Lord Stannis, and did not know what to expect. If the stories were true, Stannis was not as jolly as his brothers, but he was just and righteous.

The room with Lord Baratheon's lordly seat was wide and light. Draperies were hung on one side of the room, and the other side was covered with tall windows. On the far side of the room there was a banner with a proud black stag prancing on the yellow background, coloured gold because of the afternoon sun. Beneath the banner sat a man who was scribbling something on a piece of parchment, with a small scowl. When he heard their steps, he raised his head. "Ah, there you are!" he said, and only then noticed Arya, "And who might this be?" he searched for the answer on her face.

"My lord," started Ser Thomas, "you remember our blacksmith, Gendry." Gendry immediately bowed.

Lord Stannis' raised her eyebrows and shot him a curious look.

"And I have the honour to present you Lady Arya of House Stark," Ser Thomas continued, and she managed to clumsily curtsey to Stannis before looking him right in the eye. She decided that she will not allow him to intimidate her. She studied his face. His hairline was receding, and his black hair was streaked with grey, but he was still comely.

"Arya Stark," he said, and then his hard face broke into a small smile, forming wrinkles around his eyes. He looked ten years younger, "welcome to Storm's End."

* * *

After a brief explanation of her journey home, she was asked to attend the dinner at the great hall later that evening. She thanked him and courteously accepted the invite, but after they were dismissed, she turned to Ser Misha who was currently closest to her. (Well, except Gendry, but she wasn't sure if they were even talking to each other.) "I can't go to a fancy dinner with a bunch of people I don't know. Not in these clothes!"

"Don't you worry, my lady, you will be given a room and handmaidens to help you prepare for the evening and to tend to your needs during your stay," he gave her a reassuring smile.

"Besides," Gendry jumped in as they were waiting for her new handmaidens to appear, "Lord Stannis will not even be there. Only lords, ladies and knights who are currently guests in the castle."

She was a bit relieved, but she just looked at him and said "I take it you won't be there either? Good." Arrival of the two handmaidens saved him from further bickering.

She felt his eyes on her back as she was rushing off with two girls. One of them turned and longingly gazed at Ser Jensen, but blushed and bent her head when she saw Arya's face.

* * *

Few hours later, she was sitting between Misha and Jensen, while Thomas was seated next to his lady wife. Genevieve was older than Arya, but she was a nice, merry girl, and really seemed to be head over heels in love with Thomas.

Arya felt a little uncomfortable, clad in white silks and with a necklace of black pearls around her neck. When her handmaiden asked her if she wanted her hair pinned up, she refused, so her soft curls were now falling in cascades down her back.

The dinner went well. They had singers to entertain them, and they were playing Bear and the Maiden Fair (again). After the dinner, some of the guests went to dance and most stayed to mingle with their friends. Arya was chatting with Genevieve and Ser Jensen. Suddenly, Lady Genevieve spotted someone in the crowd .

"Anna! Anna, dear, come, join us!"

A beautiful redheaded girl dressed in emerald green velvet approached them.

"Arya, this is lady Anna of Blackwood. Anna, meet Arya Stark."

Anna smiled at her. "Are you enjoying your time here, my lady?" she glanced at Ser Jensen, whose cheeks were completely red from unknown reasons.

Just as Arya was about to answer, Genevieve said, "Arya, do you mind keeping me company as I go fetch myself some more wine? That serving boy disappeared again." Arya took the hint and they departed.

"What was that all about?" she asked when they were out of Anna's and Jensen's earshot.

"Oh, don't mind them, they've danced around each other for months, but neither will admit it," Genevieve laughed.

And then she spotted him. He stood on the balcony, leaning on the railing, dressed all in blacks. She bit her lip.

She turned to see Genevieve deep in conversation with some kind-looking old lord. She mumbled an excuse and left them. She climbed the stairs and saw Gendry waiting for her by the railing.

She walked towards him, perfectly aware of him looking her up and down. Now standing in front of him, she folded her arms across her chest, suddenly feeling naked.

"I knew you'd come, m'lady," he said. She just wanted to slap him and wipe that stupid cocky grin off his face.

"I felt sorry for you, standing here all alone. Why are you here anyway? You're not supposed to be here. Only highborns, remember?"

His eyes clouded. "Arya, why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"You keep pushing me away! You keep building that wall around yourself!"

She licked her lips. "I do none of that."

He let out a bitter laugh, "Oh, but you do."

"You know what, I've had enough of you," she turned to leave, but he caught her by the arm.

"I wasn't done talking, Arya."

"Well, I was, so do you..." and suddenly she was cut off by Gendry's lips pressing down on her own.

It took her few moments to get back to reality, and then she slapped him.

"What do you think you're doing?" she was fuming, "Do you think you can just waltz back in my life like this?"

"Look, Arya..." he suddenly sounded tired.

She rolled his eyes at him, "Shut up, stupid." She pulled him into a searing kiss, one hand on his cheek and the other around his neck. His arms found their way around her waist, and he pulled her closer to him.

Gendry broke the kiss. "Arya, don't you think.." but she kissed him again and smiled into the kiss.

"That we should take this somewhere else?" she asked, "I was just about to ask you the same thing."

He led her to a room with heavy oaken doors. The key was in the keyhole, so he locked them inside the room. They stumbled on the bed, limbs tangled.

Arya formed one thought in that small part of her brain that was still working. "What is someone tries to enter the room? Whose room is this?"

"Do you really care?" Gendry murmured into her neck.

**Author's note**

**Weeeeell, there you go. Tell me what you think. And remember, cookies!**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's note**_

**If I owned any of this, do you really think I'd be writing a fanfiction? Nope, I'd be bathing in money, like George RR.**

Dull, throbbing pain shot between her legs when she made a move to get up. She sighed and closed her eyes again, waiting for the mild pain to go away and enjoying the comfortable weight of Gendry's arm around her waist. He was still asleep and spooning her. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to snuggle closer to him. She spied the half closed door leading to privy so she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and made herself get up.

She cleaned the blood, sweat and seed off her skin and went to find some clothes to put on. She found her silken dress on the floor besides the bed, in the bundle of clothes. The laces on the bodice were all torn up. Pity, even Arya liked that dress, and she never wore dresses. She'll have to see if her handmaidens could do something to fix it. She went through the rest of clothes and settled for Gendry's shirt. It reached down to her thighs, and the sleeves were too long, but it smelled of Gendry.

She walked to the window and opened it. Sun was still low, hiding behind clouds and colouring them a pale pink. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with fresh morning air. She bit her lower lip to stop herself from smiling as she dozed off into the memories of last night.

_He was trailing kisses down her neck, with her hand in his raven hair. She was hurriedly unbuttoning his shirt and then appreciatively moaned at the sight of his lean, hard muscles. He chuckled, his teeth on her laces._

"Why are you up so early?" she heard a hoarse, sleepy voice coming from the bed. She turned around, lazily walked over to him and jumped into the bed again, straddling him, a smile spreading over her face.

"I could ask you the same."

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"My lord? My lord, are you in there?"

Gendry groaned. Arya's eyes were as big as saucers, panic creeping down her spine. "I told you we'd get in trouble!" Stupid, stupid, stupid. They never should've crashed into some random room.

"My lord! Lord Baratheon wants to see you! My lord!"

Gods, the lad was annoying.

Another voice joined outside the door. "What in the seven hells possessed you to yell this early in the morning?" Arya recognized Ser Jensen.

"I'll handle this," Gendry said, pulling up his breeches, as Arya was maniacally throwing her clothes on.

"Are you crazy? We have to stay low, maybe they'll go away." She couldn't afford to be seen rolling in bed with a blacksmith. The whole castle would think she's a cheap whore. And what if the word reaches Lord Baratheon? She shivered at the thought.

Someone started pounding on the door again and trying to open it, shaking the handle. Gendry rolled his eyes and unlocked the door, causing the person to fall into the room.

The boy picked himself up and gracefully dusted himself off. He was tall and skinny. He raised his head and opened his mouth to start shouting again, but then he noticed Arya for the first time and shut his mouth, managing only to squeak out a weak "Oh."

The boy had unruly brown hair and brown, lively eyes, which were now travelling from Gendry to Arya. His cheeks reddened. "I...I..." he stuttered.

"What Sammy here is trying to say," Ser Jensen said, leaning against the door frame and patting the boy's shoulder, "is that he mistook the room."

"But, I..." poor boy seemed completely lost and was making puppy eyes. If Arya hadn't been so embarrassed at the moment, she'd have felt bad for him. Jensen only laughed, winked at Gendry and started pulling the younger boy out of the room.

"Jensen, what do you think you're doing?!" the lad asked, his voice unnaturally high, "We don't have time for any of your..."

"Shut up, Sammy."

"It's _Sam_!" the younger boy shrieked, their voices slowly fading, leaving Gendry and Arya in silence. Arya blinked.

"Well, this went...smoothly." She cleared her throat. "Who was that boy?"

"You have had the honour of meeting Jensen's brother Sam, a boy of 15, but he likes to think he's already a man grown." Gendry chuckled. "He's a squire."

The boy somewhat reminded her of her own little brothers and filled her heart with homesickness and nostalgia.

* * *

Next week was one of the best ones in Arya's life. She met up with Gendry whenever she could, but never in that room again. Gendry tried to assure her that the incident with Sammy-sorry; _Sam-_ won't happen again, but she didn't want to risk anything. She still blushed every time Ser Jensen smiled mischievously at her and Gendry.

One day she bumped into Gendry after having a brief conversation with Lord Stannis.

"What's wrong?" he asked, "You look upset."

"It's just... Lord Stannis organized for me to go home."

"Oh," he replied, thinking, "When?"

"Tomorrow," she said, taking his hand and leading him to the first empty room.

For the journey, she was allowed to dress in her usual garb again. She has always been more comfortable in breeches than in skirts.

She was given a small party to escort her back home, including 5 knights and a septa. First day of the journey, she kept septa's company. The old lady kept going on and on about the importance of virtues and gods, and how it's not appropriate for a young lady to travel around the world in man's clothes. She even tried to make her do needle work. Arya's only reply was that she already knew everything that is to know about needles.

Next morning she chose to ride with the knights. She was glad to have Ser Misha there, so she spent most of the time mingling among the knights with him, instead of sitting in a carriage with the septa. She had found out more about Misha. Once she went past his shy appearance, she found that he _was_ talkative after all. He told her about his childhood as a fourth son, how he always fought for the spotlight, how he squired for the famous Knight of Flowers, Ser Loras, and in return, he listened to Arya babble about her own family. She was anxious to finally see them all. She even thought about going to the Wall to see Jon. He'll probably muss her hair again and call her 'little sister' although she wasn't little anymore.

When she saw the walls of Winterfell for the first time after five years, she promised herself she wouldn't cry. But when the gates opened and she saw her usually composed and elegant sister running across the yard, her skirts swirling around her, hair in a mess, tears running down her cheeks, Arya jumped off her horse and broke down to tears as they hugged so tight she thought she'd never be able to let go, and they tumbled down to their knees. Rickon followed close behind and helped Bran to dismount his horse. They just sat there, in the dirt, huddled together, crying and laughing at the same time, mumbling inarticulate words.

When they calmed down a bit, she got the chance to inspect their looks. From a pretty girl Arya remembered, Sansa turned into a beautiful woman. Bran was almost all grown up, tall and slender, and Rickon was still a boy, but his plump cheeks were gone.

They spent the rest of the day (and most of the night) talking and occasionally crying. When Bran and Rickon left them, the sky was already beginning to lighten. The sisters snuggled in the same bed, like they used to do which seemed hundreds of years ago.

_**Another author's note**_

**Sorry you guys had to wait so long for this chapter. It's a bit shorter than the last one. I'll try to update soon, and you could motivate me a bit more if you leave a review.* ****wink, wink*******


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's note.**_

**Let me just go check something... *goes to her bank account* Nope, still not rich, still don't own any of this. Onto the story.**

_He was driving her crazy._

_"Yes, I'm sure, just do it already, you idiot."_

_She arched her back, trying to, wanting to be even closer to him._

_"I want you, Gendry. I need you."_

_He was now right at her entrance. She let out a frustrated moan. He was teasing her on purpose, she was sure of it. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. _

_"Right. Now."_

Her breath caught in her throat and she bolted up. It's been almost three months since she returned to Winterfell, almost three months since she last saw Gendry. The last day of her stay at Storm's End, she searched for him at the forges, but he was nowhere to be seen. The bastard didn't even have the decency to kiss her goodbye. And three months later, these damned dreams still haunted her every night. But maybe that was just her subconscious. Maybe part of her wanted to re-live those moments, maybe that's why she's still wearing that black shirt every night, Gendry's shirt that she borrowed with no intention to give it back.

* * *

Yesterday she had asked Sansa how is it that none of the Starks was married yet.

"Oh, it's rather simple," Sansa had replied, "when we found each other at last, we wanted nothing but to spend all the time together."

Sansa and Arya were walking in the gardens, arm under arm. Somehow, their legs seemed to be working their way to the godswood.

"And finally, we decided that we'll try to follow Robb's example."

Arya stared at her in confusion. Sansa smiled sadly.

"He married for love."

"We see how that turned out," Arya threw back. Even after all those years, the wound still hurt. There was a gaping place in her heart that she knew will never heal up.

"What are you saying, Arya? Would you rather have Bran arrange you a marriage?" Sansa looked sceptical.

"No, of course not. It's jut..." It was difficult to explain. "Look at Mother and Father. They had a wonderful life together, wouldn't you agree?"

Maybe an arranged marriage really was easier to cope with. If it fails, you can blame your parents. If it works out, well, you can only thank them.

But Arya quickly sent those thoughts away. To have a complete stranger undress you, to take your maidenhood on your wedding night was just not acceptable. Which brings up another awkward topic...

"They did, but how often does that happen?" Sansa said, waking Arya up from her unsettling thoughts. "Look at Jon Arryn and Aunt Lysa." For some reason, Sansa shivered, and only then noticed the bright red colour of Arya's cheeks.

"Are you all right?"

"Of course, why would you ask something like that?"

"You seemed a bit...distracted. Anxious even."

"No, I'm marvellous." Arya gave her a (what she hoped was) reassuring smile.

Sansa raised an eyebrow at her, but decided to let the subject drop. Arya was obviously not comfortable with sharing whatever was on her mind.

"So," Arya continued after a short pause, "none of you found _the one_ just yet?"

Noticing the _none of you_ in place of _none of us_, Sansa slightly narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Arya was good at lying, but not to her own sister. Sansa could see right through her. But once again, she let it slide.

"Bran is always talking about this girl, Meera."

Arya nodded in agreement; Bran had indeed mentioned her quite a few times.

"But every time the Reeds pay us a visit, he loses his courage to ask for her hand." Sansa finished with a good-natured laugh, "I myself have had enough with the marriages, at least for a while. And Rickon is still too young to care for anything other than knighthood and horses."

_I was about his age when I met Gendry._ An unwelcomed thought flashed through Arya's minds.

They have reached the godswood and sat under the ancient heart-tree. Red leaves were rustling above their heads. At that moment, Arya understood why her father loved the godswood so much. Entering it was like travelling back in time, in time of children of the forest. The godswood was a place of complete peace. No wars were fought in the godswoods.

_Wars are fought with swords. I have a sword. My Needle. I should practise more... I haven't practiced in a while... Jon gave me Needle. Jon is a bastard. Gendry's a bastard, too. He's also a smith. And his cheekbones are like chiselled. _

Arya blinked and blushed. She shook her head as if to clear her head from such treacherous thoughts.

Sansa quietly chuckled to herself. Her younger sister was obviously lost in her own world. Sansa noticed that Arya has changed a lot. Maybe that's just what they call growing up. She used to annoy her to no end when they were little, but they have had a lot of good times too.

A single blood-red leaf was gracefully falling down and Sansa followed it with her eyes. It landed on the lake's surface and started to aimlessly float around.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Arya broke the silence.

"What is?"

"The godswood. Nature. Life. Everything." Arya laughed, stretched her arms like a cat, threw her head behind and closed her eyes.

Sansa studied her for a few minutes, remembering the skinny, mousy, long-faced girl she had known and looking at a confident, beautiful, but still fierce young woman in front of her. Was this really her little sister?

"I'm so happy to have you back."

Arya opened her eyes; there was a spark in both of them.

"I'm happy to be back."

And with that, they fell into comfortable silence, each lost in their own memories.

_Sansa is so strong. I could never live though all that plotting and marriages. There are different kinds of strength, though. We're all strong in our own way. He's also strong. Especially his arms. I never wanted to leave his arms again. _

Arya sighed. This was hopeless. Whenever she let her mind wander, it always settled on Gendry in the end. Or his arms. Or his hair. Or his eyes. Or his...

Arya burried her burning face in her hands and soundlessly screamed.

* * *

And now, lying in the bed, waiting for the sun to come up and unconsciously sniffing her sleeve (although Gendry's scent was long gone after three months), and thinking back to that conversation with her sister, Arya realized a few things:

Firstly, she's able to marry whoever she wants, but she has yet to find out if this arrangement includes lowborns as well as highborns.

Secondly, whoever she marries, though, will probably have a slight problem with the lack of her maidenhead. But this might as well be looked over; the Starks were still one of the most influential families in Westeros, and most men would like to be a part of it, never mind her missing maidenhead. But she still had to tell her family about this.

And lastly, she is fully, undoubtedly, hopelessly, truly, honestly, head-over-heels in love with Gendry.

_**Another! Author's note**_

**After 5 chapters of Supernatural references that a lot of you recognized, it's time to credit the show and the actors. So yeah. **

**I really thought this was going to be the last chapter, but oh well, The next one is probably the last.**

**That's all from me now, hopefully you liked the chapter, let me know!**


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's note**_

**I know that I'm probably making the characters a little (a lot) out of character, sorry about that. Credit to George RR for creating the characters, and credit to lkgwennire for suggesting a Gendry's point of view (also, sorry for misspelling your name).**

"_Arya."_

"_For gods' sake, Gendry, don't stop."_

"_Arya," he warned._

_She cut him off with a kiss, digging her nails into his back. Few moments later, her world shattered into million pieces, and she pulled him closer, pulling him over the edge, never letting go._

Bang.

The sound echoed in his ears.

Bang.

He came to the forge to try to keep his mind off of Arya. It's been like this for two months after Arya left. After two months, he couldn't bear it anymore. He thought of a plan. Then, he had to persuade a few people. One or two had their doubts, but after he persuaded (and by persuaded I mean threatened) them, they were ready to co-operate. And with that, a letter was ready to be dispatched.

That was a week ago.

No word from Winterfell yet.

He swung the hammer again.

"Don't you think you should slow down with that thing?" Jensen walked in and went over to the bench, avoiding Gendry and his hammer in a wide circle.

"Don't you have some other place to be?" Annoyance was clear in Gendry's voice.

"No, I enjoy being in a smelly, steamy forge with a cranky guy who hadn't got laid in three months." Jensen rolled his eyes, "I'm actually here to deliver you a message."

Gendry's eyebrows rose in expectation. "Yes?"

"Your uncle wanted to see you, like, an hour ago."

* * *

"Come again?" Arya blinked.

"I'm not making you do anything," Bran looked apologetic, "I just want you to meet him and then you can refuse him. I already sent a raven..."

"You said Lord Baratheon?" Maybe she misheard, "_Lord Gendry Baratheon_?"

Bran seemed confused about her tone, "Yes. You must be wondering, I know. He's not Stannis' son...

"Do tell," she felt dizzy. Maybe they're talking about some different Gendry.

"He's actually a natural child..."

"A bastard, you mean. He's a bastard. A huge one, too."

"Arya!" Sansa jumped in, horrified look on her face, "That is no way for a lady to speak!"

"...a natural child of late King Robert. Stannis acknowledged him and gave him Storm's End." Bran finished miserably, looking from one glaring sister to another. He didn't look very lordly at the moment.

Arya was still dumbfounded from disbelief. Yes, they must be talking about some other Gendry who bore strong resemblance to King Robert's hair, eyes and love for hammers. That must be it. That's a good, reasonable explanation.

"Arya," Bran called, his voice weary, "What's the matter?"

She didn't answer. She was afraid that, if she opened her mouth, the white, boiling rage she felt would spill out. Then she'd have to explain everything to her brother and sister. At least Rickon was chasing some horses in the yard so she wouldn't have to deal with him too.

"Arya, just meet him. It would be utterly embarrassing if I..."

"Oh, don't worry," she smiled sweetly at him, "I'll meet him."

_My fist will meet his nose, I mean._

* * *

"Arya, get dressed. They're here and you're late."

She was sitting on her bed in a simple shirt and pair of breeches, polishing Needle.

"Arya, please, what am I supposed to tell Bran and Sansa?" Rickon looked at her with those big, pleading eyes of his and she sighed.

"Is Lord Baratheon here?"

He shot her an are-you-serious look. "Of course he is, he's the one who wants to marry you, remember?"

"Not that one, silly. I mean Stannis, is Stannis here?"

"Oh. No, he excused himself. Said that he had to head back to Dragonstone."

"Good. Tell them I'll be down in an half an hour or so." She calmly replied.

"Aryaaaa," Rickon whined, "They are going to kill me."

"Has anyone told you how annoying you are?"

"Yes, now come on," He beamed, realizing that he managed to get the job successfully done. "Wait, you're going in those clothes?"

"Is there something wrong with them?" she said, daring him to answer positively.

"No, not at all," He quickly smiled.

They descended and the first thing that welcomed her was a disapproving gasp from Sansa. She paid her no mind and her eyes travelled to the man who was casually chatting with Bran. He turned when Rickon announced her arrival."

That son of a bitch smiled at her.

She strode over to them. She had a few moments to decide what to do-punch him or slap him. She didn't want to break his nose, though. Would be a pity to ruin a pretty face.

_That settles it_, she thought and went for the second option. There was a loud smack when her palm connected with his cheek. Some of his party sniggered, led by the example of Jensen, Misha and Thomas. Bran froze, Sansa looked like she was about to cry and/or faint, and Rickon was stuffing his mouth with lemoncakes, watching the scene with wide eyes.

"You. With me. Now," A poke to his chest followed her every word. She almost dragged him out of the hall.

"What were you thinking?!" she yelled when they were out of anyone's earshot, in the godswood.

He raised his finger and opened his mouth as if to say something.

"But no, you weren't thinking!" she punched his shoulder; "Do you even know how to use your brain? Gods, Storm's End will fall apart if you rule there."

"I already do."

"Shut up!" she punched the poor shoulder again.

"If you keep punching me in the same place over and over, it might even start to hurt."

She screamed. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, you could've told me you're a _lord_? Do you know how much I've worried over that? About what would happen if we were caught? When in fact, there was no need to worry; I was a lord's whore."

"You're not a whore, Arya."

"I jumped into the bed with the first familiar man I saw after five years."

"Well," he thought about that for a moment, "Is there someone else you wanted to do it with?"

She sighed.

_Oh, a good sign_, he thought. Means that she's probably done with the yelling part now.

"You should've told me, that's all," she walked over to the lake and kicked a cobblestone.

"I...I wanted..." he looked up into the entwined branches and let out a breath, "I wanted to see if you still cared for me. Without the fancy titles and a castle. If you cared for the real me."

"You really are that stupid," she laughed and turned back towards him, "I cared for you five years ago, when you were nothing. You know I'm stubborn, I don't change my mind about someone that easily." She stood on her tiptoes to plant a light kiss on his lips.

"I love you, Gendry."

"I love you too, Arya," he pulled her into another kiss.

Behind them, it looked like the heart-tree smiled.

**For the sake of the story, pretend it's possible or at least point out what's wrong and what should I do to make it better, there is no point in sarcastic reviews.**


	7. Chapter 7:Bonus chapter!

**Bonus chapter because you were an awesome audience!**

**A 100-words drabble!**

**xxx**

Arya was too busy staring into those enchanting blue eyes to be paying attention to the words that were coming out of the septon's mouth.

"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words," Septon Martyn finished and turned to look at them.

_Right_, she thought when the septon coughed expectantly.

-Father. Smith. Warrior.

-Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger.

- I am his

_-I am hers,_

- And he is mine,

_-And she is mine,_

-From this day,

-Until the end of my days.

_**Last author's note!**_

**Thank you so much for bearing with me all this time! You guys are the best! I hope you liked the story, tell me what you think!**


End file.
